


Be Near Me

by Iron_Angel



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Claustrophobia, Denial of Feelings, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Ghoul Sex, Idiots in Love, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2018-12-04 18:39:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 15,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11561046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iron_Angel/pseuds/Iron_Angel
Summary: Things unexpectedly change between them when Hancock witnesses Nora in a moment that proves she's not as impervious as she pretends to be.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [insert disclaimer here] Unbeta'd. I'll correct mistakes and typos as I find them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Lady_Trevelyan84 who wanted a Hancock fic, and for magnificent who wanted a long(-ish) fic.

"Be near me now,  
My tormenter, my love, be near me—"  
\--Faiz Ahmed Faiz,  _Be Near Me_

 

"You're falling behind," Nora sing-songed.

Hancock looked up from his odd dance of patting down and searching his pockets to flash her a grin. "Just needing a pick-me-up." He finally found what he was looking for. Pulling out a tin of Mentats, he held it out towards her even though she was several paces ahead of him. "Got plenty to share if you want to join me in a little chem break." At her raised eyebrow, he gave the tin a little shake. "C'mon, they're _berry_."

Shaking her head and rolling her eyes, she turned her attention back to the road and started walking again. "No thanks. Last thing I need right now is to be caught in my own head over-analyzing everything to death."

He started searching his pockets again. "Pretty sure I've got something that'll mellow you out, if you prefer that."

"No, Hancock."

"All the more for me," he shrugged, popping a couple of the tablets into his mouth and chewing.

He liked berry Mentats the best. Along with the usual rush and mental clarity Mentats offered, the berry ones made everything so much more vivid. Looking down, he could see even the thinnest hairline cracks in the destroyed pavement. Up, and he could see the overlapping scales of the trees' bark. Now even further ahead of him, Nora was practically glowing with a massive lavender aura, the blue of her vault suit seeming to merge with the blue of the Pulowski Preservation Shelter she passed by.

He smiled as his gaze fell on the slight wiggle of her ass with each step she took. _So_ much more vivid.

"I'm leaving without you," she warned, not bothering to look back.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm com--"

The glow surrounding her suddenly split into two, moving in different directions.

He blinked.

Nora was still walking straight, but the second aura was shifting from side to side. It split again, and again, and again. Four bipedal lifeforms, all the same shape, travelling in more or less single file. Getting closer.

_Oh shit!_

He took off at a run toward her. Having heard the crunch of his boots against crumbling concrete behind her, she turned just as he skid to a stop, almost colliding with her, flung an arm around her middle, and began pulling her back the way she'd come.

"Hancock, wha--"

He clamped his free hand over her mouth and lifted her off her feet, hauling her to the Pulowski. Without a word, he kicked it open and pushed her in, smashing her against the wall as he squeezed in behind her and slapped the door control closed again.

"You had better have a damn good explanation for this," she growled.

Again, he covered her mouth with his hand, warning, "Shh..."

"What's that! I smell something! Smells like human!"

Supermutants.

"Stupid brother! That not human! That ghoul!"

"Hungry enough to eat ghoul!"

"Rather eat bugs!"

Nora grabbed Hancock's hand and pulled it away from her mouth. With nowhere else to put it in the cramped space, he settled it on her shoulder, resting his arm across her chest. Supermutants were stupid, but their physical strength and senses where incredible. Outnumbered two to one was too much for a shotgun and a 10MM, leaving the pair no choice but to stay as still as possible and hope for the group to move on.

Hancock felt the ground tremors even through the steel floor of the Pulowski as the troop passed. He could hear the slap of bare feet and the huffing grunts of their breathing. Even smell the rotting flesh of their "ration" bags as they passed. They were _very_ close.

"Human! You are here! I smell you!" one bellowed.

In his arms, Nora suddenly tensed, and he could feel her heartbeat pick up speed against his wrist.

"You get shot in face? I do not smell human, brother! Just ghoul!"

"I not eat ghoul! Want real meat!"

"Yes, real meat! We hunt now! Not waste time on ghoul!"

Nora was starting to breathe harder now, her breath coming in soft gasps. She braced her hands against the wall and pushed back into him, her ass pressed right up against his groin. A wild thought that perhaps she was getting _excited_ from the dangerous situation crossed his mind before he realized she was trying to shake him off.

"Would if I could, sunshine," he whispered right against her ear. "Hold still just a little longer. They're still too close."

She jerked her head to the side to stare at him over her shoulder, eyes wide, terrified. His self-loathing was ready to write it off as her being uncomfortable having him so close, but this was worse. She was having a panic attack.

Not good!

No! He couldn't freak out about this right now when she needed him.

Sliding his hand to rest against her sternum, he held her back to his chest. "Nora, I need you to breathe with me," he whispered, taking a deep breath and letting it out slow. "Feel that? C'mon, do it with me." He took another breath. She was taking three breaths to every one of his, still pushing back against him. He did his best to give her all the room he could, but there was no more space to give. "We'll get you through this. Breathe."

It took several long minutes, but by the time she'd calmed enough to sync with his rhythm, he could no longer hear the supermutants. Still, he waited for another five before reaching up to hit the door release. Having not noticed their shifting had put him against the door, he fell out onto his back as it slid open, his hold on her taking her with him. No sooner than they had hit the ground, she was pushing at him again, trying to break free.

He let her go and held up his hands in surrender as she scrambled away. Shaking his head, he stood and began brushing himself off; Nora stayed seated with her back against the Pulowski. Trying to defuse the tension, he chuckled, "Not exactly the best round of Seven Minutes in Heaven I've ever played. Might be with the best looking girl, though." He turned and held out a hand to help her up.

She ignored it and the remark, pushing up to her feet by herself. She brought up her Pip-Boy and flipped a knob. "They've gone out of range." Another flip and click. "Sundown soon. We should find a place to stop for the night." Click. "Bunker Hill is close enough. We can make it there before it gets too dark, and head to Goodneighbor tomorrow."

Dumbfounded, he stared at her. Not two minutes ago, she was barely holding herself together in his arms and now she was all business again. "Hey, you going to be okay, sister?" he asked. She nodded, not looking at him, clicking away. "We going to talk about what just happened?"

"Hm?" She glanced up at him, then over to the shelter pod. "Oh. Yes. Impressively quick thinking. Thank you." Double-checking her Pip-Boy one last time, she turned in the direction that would take them to Bunker Hill.

He frowned, but said nothing else as he followed her. He'd continue this conversation later when they weren't out in the open.


	2. Chapter 2

Bunker Hill was all about the caps. As such, most of the residents didn't care if you were ghoul or human, so long as you were paying. Nobody gave Hancock a second glance as he followed Nora to the back corner of the high-walled settlement.

"Now we're talkin'!" he grinned when he realized she had lead them to a bar. Noting the decent condition of the stools and the clean countertop, he nodded to the bartender and said, "Nice place you got here."

The portly older man scowled, looking him up and down. "Yeah, and we aim to keep it that way."

Huh. Maybe some of the residents _did_ care if you were a ghoul after all. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Hancock bristled.

"It means, Mayor Hancock, that your reputation proceeds you, and that we don't want any trouble."

That... was actually a reasonable concern. He could accept that. He smirked, taking a seat. "Formal title and everything. Oh, I like you. Bring me something strong and charge it to that one there." He pointed to an unconscious caravan hand slumped over at the far end of the bar.

As the old man set the drink in front of him, Nora approached the younger one who was sitting on a couch behind the counter. He looked up from his paper and smiled. People always smiled at the Vault Dweller. "Need a room?" he asked. "Price is ten caps. Better get it before the last of the night's travelers come in."

"I need two, actually," she clarified, reaching into her pack for her caps stash.

The innkeeper shook his head. "Sorry, you're out of luck. Only got the one. Real bed, though. Not a sleeping bag on the floor, at least."

Hancock felt a funny pain in his chest as he watched Nora work her jaw, eyebrows knit. Then, she pulled out the ten caps and handed them over.

"Up top. First door you come to."

She nodded, then turned back to rejoin her companion. "Guess you heard him," she said, looking at anywhere but him. "Up top, first door."

"Sounds cozy." Given how travel went in the Commonwealth, he'd been wondering and secretly hoping for when they'd be stuck sharing a bed. A ramshackle excuse for a hotel with hole-riddled plywood walls and half a dozen snoring caravaners wasn't exactly the privacy of the Rexford or one of her settlements that he would have preferred, but he wasn't going to turn down the chance. "You want to hit the hay early?"

Eyes down, she shrugged, turned and walked away. "See you in the morning." Instead of heading for the stairs, however, she turned toward the obelisk and the trading post.

Hancock set his drink down and got up to follow her. "Where are you going, then?"

"To find a corner to prop up in." She was trying for a light, neutral tone of voice, but it just sounded forced to him. Like she was disappointed. "Have a good night, Hancock."

He grabbed her arm, stopping her short. "I'd have a better one if you'd lose the self-martyrdom shtick and join me in the bed. I promise to stay on my best behavior." He slid his hand down, lacing his fingers through hers. Why wouldn't she look at him? Dropping the humor, he instead tried for reason. "Come on, sunshine, you're exhausted and we're both still on edge from earlier. We can make do tonight, and I'll spring for a king-size bed tomorrow after we get back into town."

She looked down at their hands, then up at him. "King-size, you say?"

Again with the forced cheerfulness. They had been doing fine together, even becoming good friends, up until now. Up until the supermutants and the Pulowski Preservation Shelter. One on one, she could take down the ugly green bastards no problem. The suiciders scared the hell out of her -- who wouldn't be afraid? -- but not even butchers caused her to run. So... was it the Pulowski? Or was it him?

"Yeah, I'll even pay for clean sheets," he said with a wink.

He really wished he didn't see the tightness in her smile as she made a show of thinking it over, wished he didn't hear the false laugh in her answering, "Okay, then." He accepted it anyway.

He felt a little hurt when she pulled her hand free from his to walk ahead of him, but getting to watch her climb the stairs more than made up for it.

The room was somehow worse than he expected. The ceiling would have made a better sieve, and the only fully intact wall was the one separating their room from the one next door. The one with the bed pushed against it opened out to the settlement's exterior wall. He supposed that unless they were unlucky enough to draw the attention of a sniper while they slept, they were safe enough. Ten caps here versus ten caps for the Rexford, though, he knew where he'd rather spend his money.

"Door or wall?" she asked as she began removing her armor.

All business and back to not looking at him again.

"Uh, wall's fine." He removed his tricorner and hung it on the bed post. He left his boots on as he crawled in, though. Bunker Hill's walls weren't _that_ secure.

Folding his arms behind his head as he laid back, he watched as she "undressed", thinking about how he would very much like to be at the Rexford right now with a bottle of booze, a couple inhalers of Jet, and enough privacy to make her comfortable with taking off the vault suit, too.

No, thinking about that was going to create decidedly uncomfortable problems, he scolded himself. To distract himself from that nicer train of thought, he said softly, "I think we should talk about earlier today."

Her hands on her leg armor twitched, but she continued working at the straps. "What about?" Too light, too casual.

"What happened in the Pulowski?"

She didn't bother unstrapping her arm guards; just jerked them completely off. "Nothing you need to worry about," she tried to assure him. "You caught me by surprise, is all."

He frowned up at her. "There's surprise, and then there's panic attacks. I've seen and lived through both, and that wasn't just being 'caught by surprise'."

He expected defensiveness. He didn't expect anger.

She turned and glared at him. "Being tricked into a glorified refrigerator barely big enough to stand up straight in and frozen for two centuries makes me just a _little_ apprehensive about enclosed spaces, all right," she snapped. "Having to double up in a windowless steel tube without warning while mutant cannibals march by less than six feet away is more than just a little nerve-wracking. So I think you can do me the courtesy of not bringing my problems with claustrophobia up again, yes?"

Holy shit, did she have some fire to her! "All right, all right!" He put his hands out in a placating gesture. "Shit, I'm sorry. Just, y'know, I was afraid it was something I'd done wrong."

Her gaze softened, and she looked down to unbuckle her chest piece. "I won't say you didn't, but I don't blame you for it. You didn't know, and I could've handled it better."

He held his arms out to her, smiling. "Come here and I'll make it up to you."

For just a moment, her face fell again, quickly replaced by the false cheeriness he was learning to loathe. Vault suit and boots still on, she climbed into bed, ignoring his offer in favor of turning on her side with her back to him, and said in a too airy voice, "Good night, Hancock."

Seems they weren't done with the bullshit quite yet.

"Good night, Nora."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking Hancock to Savoldi's bar in Bunker Hill is entertaining.


	3. Chapter 3

A cacophony of mooing and snorts jarred Hancock awake at what he felt was too-fucking-early-A.M. the next morning. Sitting up with a string of expletives concerning the parentage of caravaners and their brahmin, he looked to the opposite side of the bed and realized he was alone.

"Nora?"

No answer.

Damn, just what time _was_ it? He'd gone to bed relatively sober, he thought. His head was pounding as if he'd been mainlining Psycho for the past twelve hours. (Yeah, that wasn't as fun as he thought it would be at the time.) The sun was... fuck, too damn bright to judge exact time of day. Air was warm, though. If it wasn't noon already, it was close to it. Which meant Nora could be anywhere doing God-knows-what.

Climbing out of bed and shoving his hat back onto his head, he left the room to head downstairs to the bar.

Lo and behold...

"--can't promise I'll be successful, but I'll do my best to find out what I can about your grandfather, Mr. Savoldi." Nora held out her arm to the old bartender, letting him tap something into her Pip-Boy.

"Just be careful, all right," he warned, shaking her hand. "I don't want anymore deaths on my conscience."

"You get yourself tangled up in another sob story?" Hancock asked as he approached. He ignored the dirty glare from the barman.

Nora shrugged, slinging her pack off her shoulders and rummaging through it. "Caps make the world go 'round, and giving a little closure to others makes me feel better about myself. Damn it, where-- ah! Here. I've already seen the traders this morning." She pulled out a box of shotgun shells and handed it to him. "Anyway, it's not like I have anything better to do with my time nowadays other than hunting down rogue Gen-2s and wiping out raider gangs with too many chems and not enough sense in their fool heads."

He pocketed the shells with a nod. "Heavy is the head that wears the crown. Or rather, the General's hat. So, where are we off to now?"

"Goodneighbor."

He frowned, confused. "We're looking for the bartender's grandfather in Goodneighbor?"

She shook her head as she repositioned her pack across her shoulders and checked her gun. "No, we're getting you back to your state house, then _I'm_ going to Malden to look for Joe's grandfather."

"You trying to ditch me already?!" He put a dramatic hand to his heart. "I'm hurt!"

She gave a humorous snort. "Wow, that's some bad acting," she laughed. "Seriously, though, I figured you would be wanting to get back to your office and your... people. 'Heavy is the head that wears the crown,' as you say."

He waved her off. "Nah, Fahrenheit will have it covered. She runs things better than I can anyway."

Nora's face suddenly went blank. In an instant, Hancock could literally _feel_ her mood change completely. What the hell just happened?

"Probably best to get you back anyway," she said calmly, paying unnecessarily close attention to holstering her gun.

Goddammit, he was getting really tired of this false shit.

He crossed his arms over his chest. "You'd be wasting your time. I'm not going back to Goodneighbor right now, and Malden's in the opposite direction. Like it or not, you're stuck with me, so let's skip this conversation and hit the road, sunshine."

He realized it was probably a bad idea to provoke her like that, but the deed was done. Worse than letting her temper show, however, there was no emotion at all in her, "Fine. Let's go," as she headed for the gates.

He was going to get to the bottom of this if it was the last thing he did.


	4. Chapter 4

Taking a deep breath, Hancock smiled to himself as a tingling sensation danced along his nerves from head to toe, making him feel energized and taking away the aches from miles of walking. Euphoric, like a good shot of Med-X.

Wait, when was the last time he took a hit? Last night? This morning? Shit. Feeling this good while sober wasn't a good sign.

"Hey sister," he called to Nora. Always too far ahead of him for his liking. "We ought to find somewhere to hunker down." She looked over her shoulder at him with a raised eyebrow. "Rad storm coming on fast." Even as he said it, the sky began turning a sickly yellow, thunder rumbling in the distance.

Nora glanced at her Pip-Boy. "County Crossing is just a few miles away."

He jogged to catch up to her, scanning the area for some kind of shelter. "Yeah, we ain't got that kind of time. Worst-case, we can hole up in one of these old transport trucks." With the similarities between said trucks and the Pulowskis, and her reaction yesterday, he would really rather not, though. The look on her face told him she agreed with that thought.

Luck was with them. As they climbed the next hill, he spotted the domed shape of a camper. Less preferable than the trucks in terms size, but at least it had windows. That was a major step up. "Bingo. That looks solid enough," he said, pointing it out.

"Not much choice in the matter," she grunted, pressing a hand to her stomach, hunching over a little.

Shit, rad sickness. No matter how much he marveled at her pre-war looks, he still forgot she wasn't as acclimated to even low doses of radiation as other wastelanders were.

He took her free arm and looped it over his shoulder, pulling her against his side. "Come on, let's get you inside before you pass out. Or worse, start looking like me."

He couldn't tell if she was huffing a laugh or panting from the effort to keep up with his stride. "What, devilishly handsome?"

"Flattery will get you everywhere," he chuckled, pulling back the sliding door and half-carrying her inside. He didn't let her go as he closed the door behind them and turned to survey the interior. "Huh. I wonder what's the story behind this."

It was a gruesome scene. To the right, wedged between the bed and the wall, was a skeleton surrounded by old, rusted bullet holes. To the left, in the kitchen/dining area, a second skeleton sat in a chair, it's skull in pieces on the floor next to an equally rusted revolver. No fresh blood smears and the bones were dry and gray, so several decades old at least.

"Murder-suicide, if I had to guess," she said, looking around. "Too long ago to matter anymore." She hunched again, pulling away. "Let me go. I think I'm going to be sick."

He guided her to the bed, helping her lay down and roll onto her side. Old or new, all campsites had a bucket, right? Looking around quickly, he found one. "Well, hey, it's your lucky day." He set it on the floor next to her head. "Got any RadAway in the pack of yours?" At her nod, he carefully removed it from her back and began searching through it.

She carried a lot of junk, he mused as he sifted through bottles of wonderglue and flip lighters. Finding a very nice gold-plated one that looked as if it had never been used, he pocketed it. His was about done for and she didn't smoke, so she wouldn't mind, he reasoned. He was tempted to take the pack of cigarettes, too, but decided against it. No need to be greedy when he still had plenty.

He finally found what he was looking for in the bottom of the pack. He wanted to scold her for only having the one, but he forgot what he was going to say as the corner of the bag snagged a leather cord. Pulling both out, he discovered the cord was a makeshift necklace holding two gold rings. Curious, he turned them this way and that, reading the engravings.

_My heart, my strength. -H.M.D._

_My soul, my shield. -N.D._

"H.M.D.?" he whispered to himself.

"Honoria Morris-Delaney." He jumped slightly, turning to see her staring at him. "Wife of Nathaniel Delaney and mother of Shaun Delaney. Born in 2047, married in 2072, and died once in 2227." She sat up and took the RadAway out of his hand. "Died again in 2288 with the destruction of the Institute. Now I'm just 'Nora'."

He didn't know what to say to that. He'd gleaned bits and pieces of her story from Diamond City Radio, _Publick Occurrences_ , and his own listeners around Goodneighbor, but he never knew the full details. She had been searching for her kidnapped son, going so far as to taking up with Brotherhood of Steel, the Railroad, and the Minutemen to find him. Then, suddenly, the search was over and a war between factions erupted. The Institute became a crater, the Railroad disappeared, and the Brotherhood was forced out by the Minutemen. Peace for all in the Commonwealth.

Except for Nora, who never came home with her boy.

"Damn it," she hissed, hands shaking as she fumbled with the bag's needle.

Shoving the rings back into her pack, he reached out and took the bag back from her. "Let me."

She laid back down and held her arm out to him. With his years of experience, he quickly thumped up a vein and slid the needle in. He gently rubbed his thumb against her smooth skin as the medicine began to flow. She had two or three scars from old punctures, signs of previous uses of RadAway, but no other tracks that could be from chems. She never used anything to numb the hurt inside her own head.

"I hate this stuff," she murmured, her eyes slipping closed. "Gives me a headache."

"I've got some Med-X," he offered, reaching up with his free hand to brush her hair away from her face.

She shook her head, then pressed it against his palm. "Save it for something important. This is good enough. Please do this some more?"

"I'll do you one better." He let her go long enough to crawl into bed behind her, then spoon up against her with his arm under her head. At first she tensed, but then sighed with relief as he alternated between massaging her temples and combing his fingers through her hair. "When I was a kid, I used to get really bad migraines. My mother would sit with my head in her lap and do this for hours."

"I wish I had hours to let you do this, too." Her voice was getting softer. She was falling asleep. "Don't let me stay down too long," she yawned. "Need to move again once the storm passes." Her breathing evened out and she went still.

He wanted to stay wrapped around her like this.

Carefully pulling his arm free, he slid out of bed and went outside to watch the storm.


	5. Chapter 5

Rad storms never lasted long. Within a couple of hours, the sky was as clear as if the storm had never rolled through at all.

Flicking his cigarette butt away, Hancock debated with himself over waking Nora. She never slept enough, in his opinion. An hour or so more wouldn't hurt, right?

"Let's get moving," she said from the doorway, causing him to jump.

Where the hell did she ever learn to move so quietly?! "Damn, woman, you're better than a hit of Jet, you know that?" he coughed, thumping his fist against his chest as if trying to restart his heart. "Sure you up to continuing the hike? RadAway is a bitch on the stomach. No shame in resting a little longer."

"I've wasted enough daylight. I won't make it to Greentop until after dark as it is, and that's only if we don't get jumped on the road."

"So let's call it a night here, then," he suggested. "It's not the king-size bed I promised, but it's better than that torture rack at Bunker Hill. A few frag mines around the outside and it could be home sweet home."

She let out a frustrated sigh. "We've barely been on the road for four hours. Two of which I've been in a bed trying not to hurl my guts up."

At least she had the decency to not bring up that he'd already wasted half the day by sleeping in. "Rad storms tend to ruin everyone's picnics, sunshine. Can't predict them, and can't do anything about them. And smoothskins like you can't just march through them." He stood and moved into her space, reaching out to slide the strap of her pack off one shoulder. "The day's a wash. You could use the rest, and I doubt we're going to find a better spot to camp out than this tonight."

She stood completely still as he removed the other strap, intending to take her payload of mines to set up. However, he was brought up short by the look in her eyes. Having spent the better part of two days refusing to look at him, he was startled by the intensity of her gaze now... and captivated. Normally drowning in rich color, the blue he admired so much had narrowed to a thin ring. In his experience, it meant one of two things, and he'd bet his entire stash she wasn't high.

His gaze dropped to her lips, then back up.

She blinked and looked away. Shaking her head, she took the pack back, skirting around him before pulling it back on. "I'll take my chances."

What? No! "Suit yourself," he shrugged. "I do my best work after dark anyway." He pulled out a Jet inhaler, giving it a vicious shake, wanting to shake something or someone else just as hard, and took a deep hit.

Maybe the high would convince him that he'd just been imagining things.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Spoilers for the "Fallen Hero" side-quest.

Nora didn't stop at Greentop Nursery, choosing instead to push on through to Malden. Hancock watched on as she flipped through her Pip-Boy, looked up and around, then back down on her Pip-Boy. "This is where Joe Savoldi marked as the last known location of his grandfather," she said softly, looking around again at the crumbling buildings.

"So how we supposed to find anything about the old timer?"

She shook her head and sighed. "No idea. Joe said they found the bodies of his squad around here." She gestured toward the line of houses. "I guess we should search these for anything that looks like it belongs to the Minutemen."

"As good a plan as any." He went to the first house and opened the door, stopping dead in his tracks. "Well, that was unexpected. What do you supposed caused this?"

The exteriors facing the road were almost normal, but the back half of each one seemed sheered completely off as if some giant entity had roughly hacked them in two with an ax.

Nora stepped around him to have a look, walking right up to the edge of the divide -- he really wished she'd stop doing things like that -- and looking down. "That takes water damage to a whole new level. It's a sinkhole. What's that...?" She pulled what looked like the scope of a rifle out of her belt pouch and peered through it. "A lot of old junk and bones. Too dark to tell, but could be a militia jacket." Putting the makeshift spyglass away, she turned to face him. "I'm going to check it out."

He nodded. "All righ-- What the hell do you think you're doing?" She had dropped to her knees and was crawling backwards to lower herself over the side of the divide. Two quick strides and he grabbed her by her arm, hauling her up. "That's easily a thirty foot drop." He pointed across the chasm to a dirt slope curling around from behind a rocky outcrop. "How about we go down that way instead of risking a broken limb or worse, yeah?"

"Killjoy," she huffed, sticking her tongue out at him. Ah, finally. There was his favorite Vaultie.

He grinned, pushing her out the door and back onto stable ground. "You have some serious thrill issues, sister. You ought to let me give you something that'll give you a real rush." She snorted and flipped him off over her shoulder. "I'm down for that, too."

She didn't respond, instead focusing on picking her way through the dead brush and fallen trees cluttered around the easternmost structure toward the bare stone of the hillside. It was slow progress in the dark, even with his ghoul night vision.

"What I wouldn't give for a flashlight right about now," he grumbled after having to untangle himself for a second time. There was a short buzz and hum, then a bloom of green light. "Bett--"

A much louder buzz suddenly filled the air as a trio of stingwings emerged from a hidden alcove in the rock face, the light from Nora's Pip-Boy making their gleaming chitinous bodies appear ghostly white. Not just typical stingwings, but irradiated ones. And all focused on the Pip-Boy's glow.

Nora spun out of reach as the first tried to dive-bomb her, missing the sting by inches as she pulled her gun and fired. Practically right in her face, it went down with the one shot. The other two scattered, then regrouped in a pincer move from opposite directions.

Hancock growled as he finally cleared the underbrush, charging forward with his shotgun at the ready. He couldn't take the shot, however. Still too far away, the spread would hit Nora, too. Instead, he did probably the dumbest thing he'd ever done and swung the gun like a club at the closest bug. It connected, knocking it a handful of yards away, but didn't kill it.

Ahead of him, he heard a grunt followed by another shot from the 10MM. "Hey! Wouldn't let that sting you, not even recreationally!" he called to her. Bug number two was back and royally pissed, stinger pointed at his vitals and roaring as it flew straight at him. Wait... roaring? "Whoa, that is one mad bug!" Racking his shotgun, he fired both barrels, virtually vaporizing the oversized insect.

Two more pops of small arms fire and a splattering sound meant the end of the third bug.

"Could use some Jet after that," he chuckled, turning.

Two things were very wrong with the sight before him. The first, Nora was half kneeling on the ground holding a shoulder wound, blood seeping out between her fingers. The second, a deathclaw was charging up the slope on all fours, closing in fast.

" _Shit!_ " He dove forward, grabbing her around the shoulders, scanning around for some kind of escape. Blocked on all sides, the only way was down. Deathclaws can't swim, right? "I hope whatever bad karma I've racked up today has shot it's load, or else this is going to hurt a _lot_!"

Half dragging, half carrying her, he ran forward and threw them over the embankment. Loose rocks and dead foliage cut and scraped at their legs and backs as they slid down towards the water. The angle hadn't given them enough momentum to reach it, though, and this time it was Nora on her feet pulling him. He grit his teeth and she yelped as they splashed into the waist-deep pool.

From there, things went from worse to _are you fucking kidding me?!_ in the space of a heartbeat. The deathclaw was now the least of their worries as they were snatched up by a rip current, pulling them toward a previously unseen fissure in the chasm walls.

Hancock heard Nora scream before he was sucked under and down.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Spoilers for the "Fallen Hero" side-quest.

He felt her hands like firebrands against his skin as she ran them over his scalp, down the back of his neck, and across his shoulders to rest on his chest, her warmth bleeding through to his heart. Sighing happily, he opened his eyes, his smile broadening as he realized she was straddled across his lap and looking down at him with an answering grin.

"Not playing fair, taking advantage of a ghoul while he's asleep," he murmured, sliding his hands up to her hips. Nothing but skin beneath his fingers. How had he not noticed she was completely naked before now? "Well, look at you. Someone's feeling frisky. Not that I mind at all."

"Hancock..."

Oh, he loved the way she said his name. Reaching up, he cupped the back of her head and pulled her down into a deep kiss. Exploring her mouth, she tasted like sugar and berries. Like his favorite Mentats.

He slid his other hand up her smooth back and tried to pull her down against him, but she resisted, bracing her hands against the ground above his shoulders. He broke the kiss, looking up at her, confused. She leaned back and reached for something near her knee. When she brought her hand back into his field of vision, he was shocked and delighted to see that she had a syringe of Psycho, turning it over and over in her delicate fingers.

She fixed him with a hot stare, lowering the needle to his arm. "Take me hard," she whispered, and pushed it in.

"Hell yes!" He closed his eyes and waited for the rush to hit him.

Aah, there was the brief feeling of relief where all pain melted away, and then--

Nothing.

His eyes snapped open. He was still lying on his back, but Nora was gone. Only a rocky ceiling hung above him, illuminated by a green glow from somewhere floor level above his head. He could hear only the sound of rushing water, and smell only damp and decay.

The sinkhole!

He bolted upright, thrown for a second that nothing hurt like he expected it to after such a fall and the near drowning. A moment later, he discovered why as he twisted around to find Nora slumped onto her side, her legs dangling in the water, and a spent stimpak in her fist. She'd injected him before falling unconscious.

"Damn you," he growled, crawling over to her. The pain was gone, but the numbness had yet to recede, making it hard to control his limbs. "God _damn_ you!" He grabbed her by the straps of her pack and hauled her up onto the rock ledge, out of the water. He rolled her over and put his ear against her mouth. Thank God, she was breathing! He began searching her belt pouches. "You'd better have more than one of those, or I swear I'll shoot both of us and then kick your ass across the entire length of Hell." Bingo! At least she had sense enough to carry several stimpaks. Pulling out two, he injected one into her shoulder, the second into her opposing thigh. "When you wake up, we're going to have a serious talk about this martyrdom kink you've got going on. Because I really ain't digging it, doll."

Sitting back against the rough stone of the cave wall, he fished his Jet inhaler out of his pocket, drained the water out of the mouthpiece, and took a steadying hit. He lost track of time -- minutes or maybe hours -- watching the green glow dance across the water pouring down from the ceiling.

The numbness in his limbs faded and the cold was starting to set in when Nora finally stirred. He watched as she blinked, then rolled over with a groan. "You all right, sister?" he asked when she looked up at him.

She rubbed at her throat. "Given the circumstances, I'm peachy, thanks. You?"

He stared at her for a moment, black eyes glittering from the play of light on water and barely contained anger. "In one piece." Damn, he could use a cigarette. All of his were waterlogged at the moment, though.

She blinked at him, eyebrows knitting. "You're angry?"

"I'm fucking pissed," he answered, voice flat.

"That I took this job?"

"It's not the job." He changed his mind. He didn't want to talk about this just yet. He was just going say something hurtful and stupid if he tried to talk right now. So instead, he stood up and surveyed the rest of the cavern. "Where the hell are we, anyway?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her struggle to sit upright and drag her left arm into her lap to fiddle with her Pip-Boy. "Still in Malden." She looked up at the waterfall. "I think we just went straight down."

Climbing around the nearby edge of the pool, he came upon a grisly discovery. "Eugh. Looks like we're not the only ones who went for a ride." Three bloated, bluish-gray corpses in raider gear and several skeletons were piled against the rocks, victims of and deposited by the current. "Explains the smell."

Coming back around, he found her sitting with her legs pulled up and her forehead resting against her knees. "Might want to crack open a can of purified," he suggested. "Had to pop you with double the stims, so I know you've got to be dry."

"How are we going to get out of here?"

He sat down next to her, bending a knee up to prop his arm on. "Let's hold off on the despair until after we've searched the place, yeah?" When she opened her mouth to speak, he interrupted her. "No, not a word about it. I ain't in the mood. When you can stand up on your own, we'll take that fancy wristwatch of yours on a tour of the cave and see what we find." He reached into her pack and pulled out a can of purified water, popping it open and handing it to her. "Now drink. You're dehydrated."

After taking several large gulps, she handed it back to him, letting him finish it. He threw the empty can toward the waterfall, watching it sink, then bob back up before floating over toward the drowned bodies.

Long minutes passed before she turned her head to look at him again. "Why are you angry?"

"Best to leave it alone, sunshine. I ain't in a good headspace for this topic right now."

"And I'm trapped underground with as-yet-unknown means of escape and a highly irate ghoul. Talk to me about _something_. Please."

He groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. Keep it together, John. "Do you have a death wish?" he demanded. Shit. So much for keeping his cool. "You stimmed me, and I wake up to find you passed out and bleeding!"

She frowned. "You're pissed because I helped you?"

"No, I'm pissed because you didn't do a damned thing to help yourself first!" He was on his feet now. "And it's not just that! You were going to jump off a cliff with deathclaw under it!"

"I didn't know about the deathclaw--"

"You tried to walk through a rad storm carrying one RadAway! _One_!"

"Not on purpose--"

"You won't rest even when you're sick, and I swear I haven't seen you eat anything in days!"

She, too, was on her feet now and in his face. "So what? Are you trying to be my mother now?"

He'd be nose to nose with her right now if he still had one. "'So what?' So what?! You're scaring the shit out of me trying to get yourself killed, is what!"

Her jaw twitched as she clamped it shut, staring up at him with blazing eyes. Damn, he loved that fire of hers. He didn't like that he was seeing it less and less these days, and hated the fact that it only ever came out anymore because of him and his mouth.

"Look," he sighed, reaching up to cup her cheek. "I--"

She sidestepped him, dodging his touch, and stormed off around the pool's edge. "I can stand on my own now," she said flatly, and he didn't miss the double meaning. "Let's look for a way out of here."

He bared his teeth as he bit back the roar of frustration he very much wanted to let loose, then took a deep breath and turned to follow her.

Too damned far ahead of him again, she was halfway around to the far side of the pool when he heard her let out a startled squawk and saw the Pip-Boy's light jerk from side to side erratically. Could she not stay out of trouble for five fucking minutes?! he thought wildly as he hurtled over the uneven stone floor to reach her.

He was too late to get in on the action. She was on all fours and panting -- fucking hell, _that_ was going to be an image burned into his mind for awhile -- with the carcasses of several abnormally large radroaches scattered about, one still oozing glowing green blood.

He knelt down beside her to check for injuries, when he noticed she was staring straight ahead. Following her line of sight, he could just see outline of an old-style laser musket, it's light chamber shattered.

She patted his hand softly in silent thanks as he helped her to stand, but said nothing as she wobbled forward to examine the smashed weapon. As her light advanced, a skeleton came into view, propped on a rotted backpack-turned-makeshift-pillow and clutching a dusty leather hat similar to the ones her Minutemen wore. She picked up the hat and flipped it over, running her fingers along the stitching of the inner band and the crudely embroidered _J.B.S._

"This is why they never found Brent Savoldi's body," she said, voice barely audible over the rushing water. She looked around, eyes landing on empty bottles and the charred bits of wood of an old campfire. "He wasn't killed in the attack on his squad." She drew in a shaky breath. "He... he never got out. H-he died down here."

Hancock looked up at her in alarm as she began gasping for breath, her chest rising and falling at a rapid rate. He lunged forward to catch her as her knees buckled, easing them both to the ground as she continued to hyperventilate between panicked chants of " _no, no, no_ ".

"Nora, stay with me," he said with all the calm he could muster as he pulled her arms up to wrap around his shoulders and held her close. "All right? Focus on me. Slow breaths." He reached up to brush her hair back like he'd done in the camper, when he'd lulled her to sleep. "We beat this before and we can do it again." Her hands fisted in the back of his coat as she buried her face in the ruff of his shirt, but he could feel that she was already starting to slow down with each stroke of his hand. Slower and slower, until she gave a final shudder and deep breath. "That's it... That's my girl..."

"I'm sorry," she hiccuped.

He pulled back to look her in the eyes, smiling. "Nothing to apologize for, sunshine. Feels nice to be the hero for once."

He felt rather than heard her laugh, and he realized belatedly just how close he was still holding her. The crisis was over. He knew he should let her go now, but she made no move to push him away yet, continuing to let him run his fingers over her damp hair. He also knew it was very inappropriate to think about at that moment, but damn, she was beautiful. And the way she was looking up at him, eyes so unearthly, the blue of her irises indistinguishable from the black of her pupils in the green light...

He leaned forward just a little.

She sighed and slid out of his lap, crawling away from him until she could pull herself up on her feet again.

Goddammit, _why_?!

He watched her return to the skeleton and pick up the hat again. Sliding her pack off her shoulders, she placed it inside. She picked up the laser musket, too, turning it over in her hands a few times. She removed the fusion cell and the refracting crystal, and placed them in her pack as well, cinching it closed again.

When she turned back around to look at him, her face was completely blank, like those creepy as hell mannequins.

That hurt. Fuck, that hurt bad.

She offered a hand to help him up, but let go the moment he was steady on his feet again. Drawing her gun, she checked it to make sure it still functioned, then motioned with her head farther back into the cave. "Let's go."

He swallowed hard and nodded. "Good as done."


	8. Chapter 8

If someone had told him yesterday that a pack of feral ghouls would be beneficial, Hancock would have laughed his ass off and asked where they were getting their chems from. Now, he was just damned grateful.

At first, he hadn't been sure what he was hearing the farther they moved away from the cavern pool and the sounds of rushing water, thinking that it might be molerats. As the tunnel began to incline, however, the grunts and scratching noises sounded less bestial and more humanoid. When he noticed the play of light on the rock ceiling move in contrast to Nora's Pip-Boy's, he tapped her on the shoulder, putting a finger to his lips as she turned to look at him. She obeyed when he motioned for her to turn the Pip-Boy light off.

The tunnel was still glowing green, and the light still moving. A Glowing One.

Nobody knew why ferals never attacked non-ferals. It made Hancock's life easier and that's all he cared about at the moment as, after having convinced Nora to stay back, he simply walked up and unloaded his shotgun into the Glowing One's and a second feral's skulls at point blank range.

Threat eliminated, they realized they were in an underground cellar. The long-ago collapse of the sinkhole must have cracked open the wall into the cavern, and the ferals had spent who-knew-how-many decades mindlessly digging at the hard dirt for whatever reasoning their decayed brains drove them to, the poor bastards. Nevertheless, an unforeseen boon was still a boon.

It took only a minute for Nora to pick the lock on the door leading to the main house, and another blast from Hancock's shotgun to break the rusted chains barring the front door. Any hopes he had that her mood would improve with being back out into open air were dashed, though. She was still so quiet and "empty" as she plotted their course back to Bunker Hill, giving every building and structure the widest berth possible, traveling nonstop until they reached the ruined monument again.

His heart sank further when they returned to the Savoldis'. After handing it over to him, Joe hung his grandfather's hat on the back wall of his bar, shook both of their hands (Hancock was more than a little surprised to be included), paid his promised caps, and comped them a round of drinks "to honor a fallen hero". Nora downed her shot quickly, then returned the appropriate amount of caps to buy a pair of rooms -- it was early enough that she had better luck this time -- and excused herself for the night without another glance or word to him.

Instead of taking the bed, Hancock burned through his last inhaler of Jet, drank his room fee plus several caps more, and spent the rest of the night sitting on the steps inside the obelisk, staring out over the Boston skyline through one of the many wide cracks in the old granite.

~

"Hancock?"

He jerked awake, hand going to his shotgun laying on the step next to him before his brain caught up with him.

Nora retreated a step, holding up her hands. "Sorry, that was stupid of me. Didn't think it through," she apologized.

He sat up with a groan, rubbing at his lower back. At least this time when he got hammered, he stayed more or less upright. "Sorry myself, doll. Not the best idea to get myself fucked up when I'm in unfamiliar surroundings. At best, it's falling down somewhere and breaking my neck. At worst, it's some asshole with grudge putting a bullet in my head." He looked up at her. "You're looking better, at least." She almost looked like her old self again, in fact. "Sleep well?"

"Didn't even manage to get my armor off before I passed out and didn't move all night, so yeah, I'll go with 'slept well'." She put out a hand to steady him as he got to his feet. "I'm not even going to ask you about your night," she said, eyeing the stone steps. "You up for traveling?"

He dusted off his coat and straightened his hat. "Depends. We gonna go frolicking with deathclaws again today? Because if so, the answer's 'no' and I demand a vacation."

"No, it's _much_ worse," she chuckled, turning to head back down the stairs. "We're heading back to Goodneighbor."

"About damn time," he sighed with relief, following her.

In hindsight, he probably would have faired better with another deathclaw.

When they returned to ground level, they were surprised to see a familiar face waiting near the entrance of the trading post. He turned toward them at Nora's happy call of "Edward!" and -- holy shit -- bent slightly to let her kiss him on the cheek.

Hancock was usually an easy-going guy. He had a well-deserved reputation for being an indiscriminate lover and a damn good one at that, with a long list of conquests under his belt. He was down for a quickie or an all-nighter, and was cool with his partners going their own way with someone else afterwards, even as soon as an hour later. He knew, too, that Nora had conquests of her own -- Edward Deegan being one of them -- and it never bothered him. It was none of his concern who banged who in his little town. So it was a shock to his system when he realized the sudden anger that flared up toward the other ghoul was actually jealousy.

What the actual fuck? He had no right to even be remotely upset about her display of affection, he berated himself. But, dammit, he was.

Deegan straightened, reaching down to cup her cheek for the briefest moment. "Nora." He looked up and nodded towards Hancock in acknowledgement. "Mayor." His eyes were right back on Nora.

And hers were on him. "A pleasant surprise to see you around here," she said, smiling. A genuine smile. "I'm used to seeing you in Goodneighbor."

"Daisy's Discounts was sold out of the supplies I needed this time, so I thought I'd try my luck here. You?"

"Odd jobs and caps, per usual."

Hancock wanted to shoot himself, and then maybe Deegan, too. Small talk? _Really_? Again, he mentally kicked himself. Same shit he did all the time, he reminded himself. Debtors looking for extensions. Desperate junkies looking for a fix. Even some of those old conquests looking for a repeat performance.

He looked between the two still conversing, then turned and headed toward the Hill's clinic. He spent way too many caps and bought all of the inhalers of Jet Kay had in stock and an extra syringe of Med-X, then found a secluded corner to shoot up in. He debated adding Mentats to the mix, but thought better of it. He felt like shit thinking about this enough as it was without over-analyzing himself further.

He was being a hypocrite. He had been openly flirting with who- or whatever caught his attention the entire time while on the road with Nora. Even as drop-dead gorgeous as she was, _he_ was the one constantly getting propositioned for "tours of the town". Damn.

He closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the plywood wall of... wherever he was at the moment, sighing.

"You make it hard to find you," Nora whispered softly.

He opened his eyes to look at her sitting on her haunches in front of him. The shadows playing across her face and the beginning of an orange tint to the clouds told him that he must have been out of it for a long time. "Where's tall, ghoul, and handsome?" he asked, feeling much calmer than he had been earlier. Thank you, chems.

"Edward? The trading post here didn't have what he needed either, so he left shortly after you did." She stood, and he realized she was on the other side of a low door frame. "I've been looking for you for hours. So why are you hiding in the tool shed?"

How the hell did he end up in a tool shed? "I like a little privacy when I shoot up," he shrugged. "Or else everyone comes up to hit my stash, too."

She rolled her eyes and grinned. "And a ghoul of the people like yourself can't just tell them to fuck off, huh?"

"You hit the nail on the head, sister."

"Well, Mr. Mayor, I think it's time to get you back to your office and your loyal constituents."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hancock knows about the 'events' taking place in "Have A Drink On Me".


	9. Chapter 9

Hancock sighed happily as the gate of Goodneighbor closed behind them. "Home sweet home. I enjoy the break, but it's always nice to come back, you know?"

At her noncommittal hum, he glanced over his shoulder to look at Nora. He didn't really expect her to be all that excited about coming back town, but he also didn't expect to see the tightness around her lips or the slight furrow between her brows.

Before he could comment on it, though, she shifted her pack around and began digging through it, talking aloud to herself, "I wonder how many caps KL-E-0 would give me for this refracting crystal..."

Ah. Business as usual, then. Speaking of... "I guess I should make an appearance at the mayor's office. You gonna be okay by yourself for awhile?"

She looked up at him, the furrow creasing just a little bit deeper before smoothing out. Fucking blank again.

He wondered if it was possible to have a Mentats flashback as, looking at her right at that moment, something clicked in his head. And damn if he didn't feel stupid for it taking so long to figure it out.

He'd picked up on a few things in their relatively short time traveling together. Chiefly, Nora didn't like not being in control of herself. She didn't like using chems. She liked a good, stiff drink, but she didn't like to get drunk. She always went with diplomacy before intimidation even though she could do both equally well, but nobody could ever manage to intimidate her. Now he had one more to add to the list: She didn't like showing when something was upsetting her.

Even now, she was trying to hide it behind a mask of indifference.

Was she upset that he was leaving her alone to go check in with Fahrenheit?

"Yeah, I'll be fine," she said, turning her attention back to her pack. There's that too casual tone of voice and the not looking at him part again.

"You sure? I can tag along if--"

She waved him off, heading off toward Kill or Be Killed. "No, you go do what you've got to do. I'll find something to keep myself busy, so, you know, take your time. No rush."

Nothing else to say on the matter, he shrugged and muttered an "All right." and headed for the door of the state house. But something felt off about her responding "See you around." as the door closed behind him.

~

Fahrenheit was a fantastic second-in-command, and not for the first time Hancock wondered why he even bothered with holding the title of mayor when she literally did all the important shit so much better than him. Without her to keep his attention reigned in and on task (she already snapped at him to focus an hour ago when he caught sight of Nora through the window heading toward the Rexford), he knew everything would go to hell in a handbasket faster than Kent could go through a box of sugar bombs. Still, having to listen to her reports on Fred Allen's chem sales and Daisy's trade deals were boring as fuck.

"How many more of these we got to go through, Fahr?" he grumbled, lighting cigarette number... ah, who the hell was counting?... and shifting around to lay back on the sofa with his feet hanging over the arm.

"You may celebrate anarchy, Boss, but you still need to make caps to keep your community afloat," she reminded.

He harrumphed, "'Caps make the world go 'round.'" He wondered what Nora was up to at the hotel. "Just give me whatever it is you need me to sign so I can go."

She scowled at him. "What's got a fire lit under your ass?"

Nora waiting in the Rexford, he didn't say. "What's the point of running the town when you can't go out and enjoy it? Enough paperwork already."

"This is important, dumb-ass, and you've only just got back."

He sat up and stubbed out his cigarette butt in an ashtray on the table. "Yeah, that's right. I've only just got back, and I want to go out now and enjoy my town. Hit up Fred for some decent chems." See Nora. "Have a drink down in the Rail." Standing up, he picked up his previously discarded hat from the corner of the sofa and put it back on his head with a flourish. "Besides, you've got this. You don't need me to make these decisions, and nobody double-checks the signatures anyway."

She sighed loudly and dropped the stack of papers on his desk in disgust. "I don't get paid enough for this shit."

Pausing at the door, he smiled. "No, you sure don't. Give yourself a raise, doll. Officially approved by the mayor," he said with a wink, then had to duck the ashtray aimed for his head.

It took him several minutes to reach the hotel, having to stop and chat with a number of citizens that flagged him down. He was glad Nora wasn't with him, though, as a couple of them were very forward with requests for "tours". At least none of them were upset when he turned them down.

In the lobby, he greeted Rufus and Clair, bought a syringe of Psycho off Fred (just in case the night went how he'd like it to), and helped himself to bottle of booze from the side bar when he discovered Drinking Buddy had already been cleaned out of cold beer for the evening.

Heading toward the stairs, he called over to Clair, "Hey, sweetheart, which room did you put the Vaultie in this evening?"

"What 'Vaultie'?" the elderly woman snapped.

"Nora."

"She ain't here."

What? "Pretty sure I saw her come in awhile ago from the window of my office."

"Yeah, she came in, but left again after talking to Rufus and that damned robot."

Explains the lack of beer. "Where did she go?" Yeah, stupid question to ask Clair.

"How to fuck should I know? I sell rooms, not babysit! Ask Rufus!"

At the second mention of his name, the old handyman put aside his _Publick Occurrences_ and stood up to join them at the check-in counter. "Ask me what?"

Hancock opened his mouth to speak, but Clair beat him to it. "The mayor is looking for the Vault Dweller you were talking to earlier."

Rufus scratched at his beard thoughtfully. "Yeah, she was looking for some high-end parts to fix an old, pre-war model generator for a friend. Said Daisy was sold out of what she needed. Took the supplies and whatever Buddy still had on hand and left." He shrugged. "That's all I know."

He really didn't like the sound of that. Setting the bottle back on Clair's counter, he tipped his hat to them both and walked out.

Back out on the street, he stopped, thinking hard and wishing he wouldn't. He wanted to check the Memory Den and the Third Rail, but he knew it was no use. She wouldn't be there. "See you around," she'd said, just like the time she'd first turned down his request to travel with her after the incident with Bobbi No-Nose. He should have listened to his gut when she said it again in front of KL-E-0's shop.

Nora wasn't in Goodneighbor anymore. And parts for a friend? That could only mean she had gone to Cabot House.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can read Nora's motivations and what happened during her visit to Cabot House in my fic "Quick Fix".


	10. Chapter 10

 

Hancock stared up at the pristine stone face of Cabot House and asked himself for what was probably the hundredth time what he was even doing here.

No, he knew what he was doing here, and he was pissed off at himself for it.

He had waited around for hours back in Goodneighbor for Nora to show back up again. When she didn't, he went back to his office to sort out the paperwork and signatures Fahrenheit needed done, then proceeded to pace the floor until she couldn't stand it anymore and kicked him out. He went down to the Third Rail, bought everyone several rounds of drinks, and disappointed a few more lonely hearts, until morning came and nobody was left standing but him. Finally he ended up sitting on the low wall next to the gates, just staring at them, waiting for them to open, until the idea popped into his head to go find the Vaultie.

This was not his style, man. He didn't do jealousy. He didn't even do serious relationships. Everyone knew that... including Nora.

He sighed and hung his head. He shouldn't have come here. Nora was free to do what she wanted with whoever she wanted, and it was none of his business. Not like he had a shortage of bed-warmers to satisfy his itch. And that's all this was, wasn't it? An itch for a "clean" smoothskin with pin-up girl curves, jewel-like eyes, and sweet-and-fiery temperament?

He wasn't sure.

Fuck it. He was going back to Goodneighbor. She'd come back to get him when she felt like traveling with him again. _If_ she felt like traveling with him again.

His feet felt heavy and everything looked like a bad Jet trip as he walked up the lane. Just as he got to the corner that would lead him back onto the main street, however, he heard the front door of the house open.

Nora stepped out, looking showered and refreshed and better than she had in days. Even her vault suit and armor were clean. Deegan was there, leaning against the door frame in an equally clean A-shirt and jeans, looking at her with a soft expression.

Hancock, out of the house security light's range, stood and watched as the former manservant reached out and took her hand, pulling her back to him. He couldn't tear his eyes away as the two spoke softly, then Deegan reaching up with his free hand to caress her hair and cup the back of her head to pull her up into a deep kiss. Heat flared in his gut and he wanted to stab the larger ghoul as he held on to her hand for as long as possible, until her fingers slipped through his, as she backed away.

Before she turned around to face the street, Hancock stepped around the corner out of sight and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. He wanted to curse Deegan, but really he could only curse himself. He had no right to be angry at him; he didn't take anything from Hancock. Nora wasn't his. He never staked a claim. Hell, he'd never even _said_ anything to her. A little playful banter, a dirty joke or two, but nothing even like what he exchanged with the random settlers and Goodneighbor townsfolk.

Because, he realized, he thought he didn't deserve her.

And she sure as hell didn't deserve to be stuck with someone like him.

He looked up at the sound of her boots crunching on the dead leaves and debris; she was fiddling with her Pip-Boy and hadn't seen him yet. "Where you off to now, sister?" he asked softly, causing her to jump and immediately pull her 10MM. He didn't even flinch as the barrel was aimed directly at his chest; he found that he was actually fine with her shooting him.

"Fuck! Hancock!" she gasped, lowering her gun and putting a hand to her heart. "What are you doing out here?"

"Looking for you. I thought you were going to the Rexford. Came by to see you, but you were gone."

She holstered her gun and started walking. "I figured you'd be... busy for awhile, so I decided to see if I could help Edward with his broken generator. I was planning on being back before we had to leave out again."

He pushed off the wall and followed her. "Interesting euphemism," he said bitterly. Fuck, what was he saying?! "I'll have to remember that one."

She stopped dead in her tracks and turned on him. Even in the dark, her eyes were blazing. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged. "I saw that little exchange at the door. I'm thinking you helped him out with more than just a generator." God, stop being such an asshole to her!

She tucked her chin slightly, and he suddenly got the distinct mental image of a mad brahmin lowering it's horns to charge. "That's none of your business," she growled softly. Then she blinked and lifted her chin. "Actually, no. You know what? Yes, I did. Edward and I happen to be very good friends, and I like to share with my friends."

Don't do it. "I thought we were friends, too." Well fuck. Just throw it all out in the open, then.

"We are. Or we were. I'm not really sure where we're standing right now with you passing judgement on me for finding a little companionship last night, too."

Too? "You didn't have to come all the way out here for it. I was right there. I was even coming up to the hotel room to offer."

He could hear the click of her teeth as she snapped her jaw shut, staring at him in disbelief. Taking a deep breath and letting it out in a sigh, he reached out to touch her cheek.

She caught his wrist before he made contact. "No, you don't get to do this to me," she said flatly, and his heart dropped. "You don't get to ignore me, then come sniffing around when it suits you. You don't get to go around and screw every Jack and Jane in the Commonwealth, then get pissed because I decide to take care of my needs."

Now he was starting to get angry. "You can't hold my past against me like that. Before you--"

"Past?" She shook her head, shoving his hand away from her. "I'm talking about every single time we stopped at a settlement, Hancock. Every night we stopped at Goodneighbor. People asking for 'tours of the town,' and yes, I know what that means. You disappearing for an hour or sometimes even more when I'm busy helping with repairs, or the crops, or dealing with the traders. And it's fine, okay? I'm fine with whoever you sleep with being none of my business." She poked him in the chest with a finger. "So what I do is none of yours."

Lightning quick, he grabbed her arm and jerked her forward, wrapping his other around her waist as she fell into him. "Listen to me and don't fucking interrupt," he warned, baring his teeth. "I ain't done anything with anyone since I took up with you. Yeah, I got asked, but I never took anyone up on it. You know better than anyone that I'm a lazy ass who hides and gets high while everyone else is doing the menial labor. I'm a politician, not a farmer."

He slid his hand up her back to the nape of her neck, holding her firm to keep her eyes on him. "And I ain't been ignoring you, doll. I've been trying keep my cool around you because you don't seem to want me close to you. I get near you and you slip away from me. And I gotta say, it's fucking frustrating. One minute those beautiful eyes of yours make me think you want me, and the next I might as well be staring at a wall."

She continued to stare wide-eyed at him for a long moment before averting her gaze, and he realized maybe he was holding her too tight. He released her neck and brought his hand around to cup her cheek. "I ain't judging you for going off on your own with Deegan, or anybody else for that matter. Hell, I'm proud of the new man Kent's become thanks to you. It's just..." Damn, this was cutting too close to home... "why do you keep pushing _me_ away?"

She sighed, a pained expression flashing across her features before she shook it back. "It's a long and complicated story." She glanced around them, reminding him that they were dangerously out in the open. She was obviously thinking the same thing. "Too long and complicated to talk about out here." Her eyes were pleading when she met his again. "Take me back to the Rexford and... I'll try to explain everything."

He nodded. "I can do that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [insert Dragon Break here]


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Very Important Note: This will be the ONLY time I will ever write anything even remotely negative about the M!SoSu._

Hancock alternated between focusing on opening the bottle of bourbon and pouring a glass, and watching as Nora carefully removed her Pip-Boy and armor and set it on the hotel room's dresser in a neat stack. It had to be an ingrained habit, he thought. She stared into nothing as she did it, eyes narrowed slightly in the way he had come to think of as her look of deep concentration. She was in the room, sure, but her mind was miles away. She didn't come back to the here and now until she had sat on the edge of the bed and he'd put the drink in her hands.

Taking a moment to remove his coat and hat and lay them on the table, he pulled up the room's only chair, flipped it around, and sat down across from her with his arms folded over the backrest, waiting.

She glanced up at him, then down at the glass. "I guess I should start with an apology," she began.

He shook his head. "No need. You're right. What you do with whoever you want is none of my business." At least he _sounded_ more at ease with it than he actually felt.

"Not about that." She slowly lifted her eyes back up to him. "I feel like I've been unfair, maybe lead you on somehow. I didn't mean to."

It felt like a heavy stone had dropped into his stomach. Had he misunderstood? All those times they'd come so close, had he misread the signs? But her eyes... He'd been _so_ sure.

She sighed, lifted the glass to her lips, and, for the first time since he'd known her, downed the entire contents in one swallow. Setting the glass on the floor, she leaned back and rubbed her hands over her face, sighing again. "War changes people, and you do things you would never do in peacetime. My husband Nate... Before the bombs dropped, he was a soldier." Hancock opened his mouth, but she held up a hand. "Just... hear me out first. He was a soldier. Saw a lot of action on the front lines. Witnessed a lot of death. Times like that, you find comfort where you can.

"Nate was a good man. He always told me that loved me very much. But it was very hard for me to believe him when I found out about a girl he'd taken up with while stationed in Anchorage. It crushed me, I felt so betrayed. I stopped being there for him when he needed me. I was ready to end our marriage." Her eyes went distant. "I still remember him begging me to not to leave, kneeling in front of me while I was sitting on the couch in our house... A house... It didn't feel like a home anymore... He was crying. He never cried. Men didn't cry. So I agreed. It took a long time for me to ever trust him again, but we eventually recovered."

It sounded like she was rambling. "Where are you going with this?" he asked.

She blinked, refocusing on him. "I really like you, Hancock. More than I should. I understand that things are different now from what they were in my time. People's... relationships... are less complicated. Or maybe more complicated. I don't know. I know that the world ending has made the old social stigmas virtually nonexistent, and it's not my place to judge how you live your life. But I have never forgotten what it felt like to be replaced, the hurt I felt. It doesn't matter how much I want to be with you--"

So he hadn't been wrong! He'd be elated if he wasn't so damned confused at the moment.

"--I don't ever want to be the 'other' that makes anyone, man or woman, feel like I did. Casual or not, I will never involve myself with someone who's attached."

He blinked at her.

_Other_? Attached? Did she think he had a--? But who--?

It probably would've helped if he'd popped a couple Mentats, but he got there eventually.

Fahrenheit.

While in Goodneighbor, he was rarely without his right hand woman more than a few paces behind him. Even on the day Nora had first shown up, Fahrenheit had been right there glaring menacingly (she had a marvelous resting bitch-face) at the newcomer. It would have been a very easy leap to think Fahr was more. Nora definitely wasn't the first to assume. She was just the first to actually care.

He thought back on all those times he mentioned Fahrenheit's name and Nora shut down, blank-faced and "empty". The times she forced indifference or, worse, that false cheerfulness, and refused to look at him when she couldn't quite manage it. All the attempts to bring him back to town, to leave him behind, because she thought it was where he wanted to be. Always trying to avoid his touch and pulling away from him.

Avoiding temptation.

He wanted to sigh in frustration. He wanted to laugh in relief. Neither was appropriate right now as he watched Nora lean forward with her elbows on her knees and cover her face with her hands. The explanation, the _confession_ , cost her so much more than he realized.

"I have to admit, I admire you and your morals," he said softly. "Noble sentiment, but misplaced."

She looked up at him, brow furrowed.

"Fahrenheit is my daughter."

The look on her face as she jerked back in surprise was one he'd never seen on _anyone_ before, and he filed it away to laugh out loud over when she wasn't in earshot.

"Not biological," he explained quickly. "Short version of the story: After I'd taken over Goodneighbor from that ass-hat Vic and when she was... eh, about ten or eleven years old... I caught her trying to steal food from the statehouse one night. Scrappy as hell with a mouth to match, but damned smart. Took her under my wing, gave her a purpose in life. More than just a fiercely loyal protege, she became everything I could've wanted in a kid of my own. And since, y'know, ghouls can't... well, I adopted her. Second-in-command and, for all intents and purposes, heir to the kingdom."

And that expression was the very definition of _gobsmacked_ , he mused as Nora just stared at him with mouth open.

"I..." she started, then snapped her mouth closed. She abruptly stood and went to get her things.

Surprised and now even more confused, he jumped up, grabbing her by the arm, and turning her to face him. "What's the matter? Where are you going?"

"Let me go," she demanded, her voice oddly strained. "I need to leave."

He did as she asked, but didn't move out of her space. She tried to step around him, but he put his hand against the wall, blocking her with his arm. "Why? I don't understand."

She glared up at him. "All this time I've been making a fool out of myself, and now I want to leave with what little dignity I have left."

She tried to duck under his arm, but he caught her again, pulling her back and up against the wall. He brought his other arm up to cage her in, crowding her further. Instead of the rage he would have expected for manhandling her in such a way, he saw her pupils dilate and her cheeks flush. This close he could feel her breath as it hitched, and he couldn't stop his gaze from dropping to her mouth as she quickly licked her lips.

He filed that away for later, too.

"I'll let you go if you really want to leave," he said gently, "but I want you to stay. This look you have right now--" He curled a finger under her chin, brushing his thumb across her lips. "--tells me that you want to stay, too." He brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheek, then up to smooth her hair away from her face. Her eyes slipped closed and she pressed further into his palm. He bent his head forward, kissing her cheek once, but letting his mouth linger against her soft skin. "Stop running, Nora. Stay with me."

A long moment passed.

He was afraid she'd slipped away from him again.

Then, "Yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Very Important Note (cont.): As far as my personal headcanon for Nate and Nora goes, the above "history" never happened. One time only story element used specifically in this one story only._
> 
>  
> 
> **Warning: The next chapter (12) contains explicit sexual content. If you do not wish to read such material, you can skip ahead to Chapter 13 (epilogue) and not miss anything of importance.**


	12. Chapter 12 - Rated E (can be skipped)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning: This chapter contains explicit sexual content. If you do not wish to read such material, you can skip ahead to the next chapter (epilogue) and not miss anything of importance.**

She turned her head and kissed him, and all the tension seemed to vanish instantly.

Finally. _Finally._

Sliding his hand back under her chin, he gently held her in place as he ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, sighing happily when she let him in. She was softer than velvet and tasted like bourbon, and that quiet little moan of hers... God, did it do things to him! The feel of her hands clutching fistfuls of his shirt did even more.

Without breaking the kiss, he reached down to grab her by the wrists and bring them up over her head, pinning them against the wall with one hand as he slowly unzipped her suit with the other. She pulled back with another moan as he ghosted his fingers up her abdomen and beneath her bra, cupping her breast and running a thumb over the nipple. Her teeth caught on her bottom lip and her cheeks colored a dusty red, damn, she was a beautiful sight. Tugging the material down, he bent and closed his mouth around the stiffening bud, loving the way she gasped and squirmed against his hold as flicked his tongue across it.

She moaned again as her hips jerked away from the wall and pushed against his. She was so responsive, and he suddenly wanted to do so many things to her to see how far he could push her. Tie her down and take her slow and gentle to make her cry out like a songbird. Bend her over whatever was sturdy enough and fuck her hard and fast to see just how much she could take.

Later, he told himself. If she would let him. For now, first and foremost, he needed her out of that vault suit.

Releasing her breast with a soft pop and straightening, he let her wrists slip out of his hold, her arms falling numbly at her sides. "Let's get you out of this," he whispered, gripping the suit's open collar and pulling it down her shoulders.

The process was slower than it could have been. He knew he was more of a hindrance than a help, peppering kisses over every other inch of skin she revealed as she worked the suit off. By the time it was bunched around her knees, he was on his before her, kissing her just below her navel as he untied and removed her boots.

She could multitask as well he could. Her boots and suit off, he looked up to see that her bra was also gone. She had very nice breasts. Easily the nicest he'd seen in a long time; maybe ever. He could spend hours and days and weeks just worshipping them.

He was getting distracted. Focus.

She offered no resistance as he stood and lead her back to the bed. Needed no coaxing to lay back against the mattress as he paused to remove the rest of his own clothing. He knew she would have no problem with his ghoulified skin, but it still sparked an odd sort of warmth in his chest to see her watching him undress, her eyes darkening with that same intensity he had seen back at the camper. Just how close had they come to this that afternoon? What would have happened if he hadn't stubbornly convinced himself he'd been imagining things, if he would have reached out to stop her from walking away?

Removing his briefs, he gave her a roguish smile as her eyes flicked down then back up, her tongue quickly flashing across her lips again as they parted. "Like what you see, doll?" Because he couldn't help being a cheeky bastard sometimes.

"Mm-hmm, very much." Without a doubt, she was an unusual one, but that worked out just fine for him.

She shifted to make room for him as he crawled onto the bed. Bracing himself over her on one arm, he lightly trailed his fingers from her collarbone down to waistband of her panties. "You're a little overdressed," he purred, tracing his index along the elastic. He hooked the finger under the band. "Can I?" Nodding, she lifted her hips slightly, and he pulled the garment down.

He paused for a heartbeat, hand twitching slightly, as he noticed the purplish-red mark on her hip. No, he couldn't get angry about this, he inwardly snapped at himself. He already knew what Nora and Deegan had done. She'd freely admitted to it. But it was hard to stamp out that last faint ember of jealousy burning in the back of his mind.

He could've been a bigger man and let it go, but he didn't want to. Tossing her panties somewhere over his shoulder, he leaned down to kiss her lips, then her chin, then her throat. Finding her pulse point, he latched on and sucked hard, causing her to jerk and whimper beneath him. Leaning back to survey his work, he felt a primeval satisfaction that there was no way she would be able to hide the mark for quite some time, even with the vault suit zipped all the way up.

Ego soothed, he returned to her mouth, kissing her slow and tender as he let his free hand slide back up her inner thigh. He could feel her leg muscles tense as he stopped just short of her sex, only the very tips of his fingers brushing against the soft curls. She made a frustrated little noise in the back of her throat and tried to shift her hips down just a little, but he pulled back that same little bit more.

"Tell me what you want, sunshine," he murmured between pecks and gentler nips along her jaw. Up to now, she had been keeping her hands to herself; keeping them against the mattress as if pinned there. He didn't want that. He wanted her hands on him. "Show me how you like it."

Yeah, he'd given her carte blanche, but it still surprised him a little when she put her hands against his shoulders and pushed him off. He fell back with a soft grunt, followed by his wicked chuckle as she straddled his waist.

"Don't tease," she growled, lightly scraping her nails in a tickling sensation down his chest and stomach as she lifted off of him, supporting her weight on her knees. She dug in a little harder as her fingers moved to her own thighs, leaving pale pink lines in her skin as they slowly traveled up to her hips, up her sides to her breasts, and one going higher still to her mouth.

Hancock felt his own mouth water as her lips closed around two of her digits, sliding in and out a little as she wet them, thinking of how they would look even more beautiful wrapped around something else. Maybe later. _Please_ let there be a later.

No coy dance of fingers back down her body, she immediately slid them over her mons and between her folds. She knew what she liked and she wasn't timid or even gentle about it. Back and forth and rubbing her clit in tight circles, her whole body tensing and trembling as her eyes began rolling back in her head. He felt torn between wanting to watch and wanting to take over. In the end, he was too distracted to make up his mind as a minute later she pitched forward with sharp, stuttering cry as she came.

Fuck, that was gorgeous. Taking her by the chin with one hand and brushing her hair back out of her eyes with the other, he pulled her up into another kiss. "I liked that sound." He rolled his hips up, sliding his cock along the cleft of her ass. "I want to hear you do it again."

Even blissed out, her eyes flashed with mischievous, fiery challenge. "Oh yeah? Make me."

She loved to live dangerously, didn't she. Several more filthy -- and surprisingly quite a few not-so-filthy -- scenarios popped into his head, and he decided right then that he wasn't going to let her go for a long time. Maybe never.

If she would have him, he'd stay by her side forever.

A thrill of panic shot through him, and he busied himself with marking the other side of her neck to hide his face.

This wasn't just about an itch, was it. He had let her come closer than anyone else had in a _very_ long time. Really the only true friend he had. She didn't want anything from him; not caps or chems or favors.

Hmm. After this, they were going to have another long discussion. With more bourbon and plenty of Mentats. Right now, though...

He rolled her beneath him again, fitting his hips between her thighs and his cock between her folds. She jerked and moaned as his length dragged over her swollen clit, still very sensitive. He both did and didn't want to wait and tease more, but the delicious heat of her _right there_ broke him. Reaching between them, he guided himself into her soft, wet entrance.

Let him die right now, because this was as close to heaven he knew he'd ever get.

He slid in easily, burying himself to the hilt and letting out a relieved sigh as she wrapped both arms and legs around him to pull him even closer. His past bedmates had never done that, and now that she had, he was suddenly ravenous for more. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he buried his face into her shoulder as he pulled back slightly and thrust deep into her again. And again. And again.

He wanted to come like this. He was so close, so ready, but part of him worried that that "later" he desperately wanted with her wouldn't happen if he didn't do this right. She'd shown him she liked rough and direct; he could enthusiastically oblige.

He released his hold to prop up on his hands over her again, giving himself better leverage. Pulling almost completely out, he snapped his hips forward sharply, loving the way she arched up with a loud, keening whimper, her nails digging into his biceps. Reaching down to thumb at her clit in those same cruel circles, he repeated the motion. Once. Twice.

On the third time, she arched completely off the mattress and, ah, there was that sound he wanted to hear. So beautiful! He only had a moment to enjoy it, though, as her inner muscles clamped down around him, squeezing his own climax out of him. He came just as hard, spilling inside of her with a ragged groan.


	13. Epilogue

How long had it been since anyone had stuck around for this part? Hancock wondered as he carded his fingers through Nora's slightly sweat-damp hair.

He felt no small measure of pride that she'd passed out in his arms just moments after he'd cleaned them up. Now she was pressed against his side, head on his shoulder, an arm slung across his stomach, and a leg tangled with his. It felt good; comfortable and reassuring. The sex was mind-blowing, sure, but this... this...

Stop being a fucking coward, John, and admit it already! he snarled at himself.

Except maybe this wasn't love. Or, at least, it wasn't love _yet_. Honestly, he didn't really know. He only knew that he wanted her close, watching each other's backs as they tore across the Commonwealth by day and... god, he wanted her tucked up against him just like this every night.

He bent to press a kiss to the top of her head. She breathed a soft, pleased murmuring sound that made him smile.

They had a lot they needed to talk about; that _he_ needed to talk about. Things he needed to tell her. He could only hope she would listen and understand.

Tomorrow, he decided. It was late, he was tired, and god knows she sure as hell needed the rest.

He shifted onto his side, wrapping both arms around her as she snuggled closer into him.

 

 _The message is perfectly simple, the meaning is clear_  
_Don't ever stray too far and don't disappear_  
_No don't disappear_  
_Be near me, be near_  
\--"Be Near Me," _ABC_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.


End file.
